“Britt,” I said. “She’s obsessed with thinking she’s fat, and she’s always on a diet. She’s starting to get really skinny again, and Mr. White has been talking to her about it.”
Dr. White made a note on the pad of paper on his desk. “Do you remember the last time you spoke with Mr. White?” he asked.
I thought back. “Last week,” I said. “It was our final meeting before graduation. He wished me luck, and gave me the letter of recommendation for my summer job he’d promised me.”
Dr. White paused in his scribbling to look up at me again with those wide, disbelieving eyes. “Do you remember the last thing he said to you, Amber?”
I thought back again and laughed at the memory.
“Yeah, he said, ‘See you around campus, Miss Jung.’ I want to study psychiatry, and Mr. White gave me that nickname because I’ve been reading up on Carl Jung and I think he was amazing. Mr. White is a Freudian, and he likes to debate me about whose theories are truer. Anyway, he’s going back to school for his doctorate next year, so maybe we’ll run into each other.”
Dr. White set his pen on the tablet and stared at the woman behind me. I turned to look back at her and she appeared puzzled.
“Amber,” Dr. White said, calling my attention back to him, “I want to take you forward to today. Do you remember what happened?”
I turned back around. “Today?”
“Yes. Specifically, tonight. Take me through the hours between six and nine P.M. What was going on?”
A rush of memories flooded me, and it was like being doused with a bucket of cold water. “Spence…” I whispered. “Ohmigod…Spence!”
“Amber,” Dr. White said sharply. “No matter what you remember, you will feel calm and relaxed. No matter how upsetting the memory, you will breathe deeply and feel no fear. All tension will leave you, and you’ll feel like you’re floating in a calm, safe place. Okay?”
The icy panic left me, just like that, and I felt calm, centered, and light as air. “Okay,” I told him.
“Excellent. Now, tell me what happened between six and nine on May twenty-seventh, nineteen eighty-seven.”
“I was in my bedroom, waiting…” I began.
“Waiting for what?”
I blinked sleepily. “Waiting for Momma and Daddy to leave. Waiting for…”
“What?”
I closed my eyes. The sensation of floating weightlessly was very intense. It was making me drowsy. “For the end. For death to find me.”
“For death to find you?” he repeated. “Or the other way around?”
The irony brought a tiny smile to my lips. “A little of both. I knew it’d come. But I didn’t know how it would happen until I saw the knife.” I put my hand over my heart; the wound still burned.
“Did you take it from the kitchen?” he asked me. “Did you use a blade from the knife block?”
“Did…I?” I said, confused. “No. No, not me. Not me. I wasn’t brave enough to do it. I didn’t know how else to get to Spence, so I set it up so that everything would be taken care of. Otherwise, it all would’ve come undone.”
“Amber, please explain what you mean by that,” said Dr. White.
I let out a long breath, that floating feeling was intensifying, and I felt so tired. So sleepy. And yet, I still had enough awareness to be wary of his questions. So many secrets I needed to keep.
“It’s not important,” I told him.
There was a lengthy pause, and then Dr. White said, “Did you kill yourself, Amber? Did you use the knife to kill yourself? Your parents will want to know: Was it your doing?”
I opened my eyes; his question had jarred me back for a moment. It’d never occurred to me that my parents would think I’d killed myself. “No! Do they think that’s what happened?”
“Many people do,” Dr. White told me.
That made me angry. “I didn’t,” I assured him.
“Did you kill your boyfriend?” he asked me next. “Did you kill Ben Spencer, Amber?”
I actually laughed. Was he kidding? “Did I…?” And then I realized he was quite serious. “I could never hurt Spence,” I told him. “Never.”
“Then what happened, Amber? Tell me, and I’ll let everyone else know.”
I sank wearily back in the chair. I felt like I was drifting farther and farther away from Dr. White and this room. It was like being sucked backward by an unseen and powerful force. I had to focus very hard simply to talk.
“Let them know it wasn’t me,” I managed to say. “Tell Momma and Daddy it wasn’t me. Tell them that it was very fast. The pain didn’t last long.”
“Amber, they’ll want to know who was responsible,” Dr. White said. “Tell me who it was who murdered you so that I can tell them.”
I shook my head and sank back into the chair, closing my eyes and drifting further and further away. “I’m so tired,” I said. “I’m so tired….”
“Amber,” Dr. White called to me, his voice urgent. Insistent. “Do you know who Lily Bennett is?”
A wave of awareness came over me, and a flood of memories formed instantly in my mind. Memories that weren’t my own, and yet were. It was as if I’d teleported through time and suddenly remembered that I was someone else entirely. Someone without the memories I had. Someone vulnerable.
“Lily,” I whispered. “Lily Bennett.”
Of course, that was her name. In that moment I knew I needed to protect Lily. I realized my error then, that I’d left poor Lily vulnerable. She was in danger. Without the knowledge of what’d happened to Spence and me, she was in very real danger. I tried to open my mouth to warn Dr. White, to beg him to talk to Lily and tell her what I knew, but the drifting feeling was too powerful and I couldn’t seem to speak.
Distantly, I heard Dr. White call my name again, but it was too late. I was already gone.
DR. WHITE HIT A KEY on his keyboard and my image was gone. He then pivoted his laptop back around and regarded me soberly.
“In nineteen eighty-six I took a job at Chamberlain High School as the school counselor,” he began. “It was the height of the Cold War, and many young people were struggling with the idea that a nuclear holocaust was imminent and schools were starting to see that fear manifest in destructive ways. I was brought on as something of an experiment, to be there for kids who were struggling with personal issues or who just wanted to talk, and Amber Greeley was one of my regulars.
“She was a bright and engaging young lady, and she developed an interest in psychology her junior year, so she came to me to ask about the profession and where the best schools were to pursue a career in that field. I knew her well enough to never believe she took her own life, or had a hand in Ben Spencer’s murder, and in our last meeting I did give her a recommendation letter for her summer job and wish her well at school the following fall. On occasion I also referred to her as Miss Jung. I can’t imagine how you’d know exactly what I said to Amber at the end of that last meeting, Lily. I can’t believe that anyone but she and I would.”
I was stunned mute. “You think I’m possessed by Amber Greeley?” I finally managed to ask.
Dr. White smiled kindly at me. “No, Lily. I believe you were Amber Greeley. I believe that you’ve reincarnated and are now Lily Bennett, but for whatever reason, the soul of Amber Greeley is having a hard time letting go of her past life, and has brought some of that forward to your reality.”
“You’re serious?” Mom said. She looked as scared and shaken as I was.
“I am,” he told us. “Take Lily’s dream. The dead boy in the field? The field on fire? Ben Spencer’s father was killed in a terrible car crash and burned to death. Amber arrived at the scene shortly after the crash. What she saw traumatized her, and that’s when she started coming to me once a week. Fire equated death to her psyche, and when, in Lily’s dream, she steps out into the field and sees that it’s on fire, she knows that what she’ll discover will be something traumatic.
“In addition, Ben Spencer was s
hot to death in a field behind the high school on May twenty-third, nineteen eighty-seven. Amber died four days later. Her death was ruled a suicide, and no one questioned the coroner’s report because she’d been so obviously distraught over losing Ben, and because only her prints were found on the knife. Somewhere in the ensuing days after Amber died, a rumor began to circulate that Amber had killed Ben because he’d wanted to break up with her. Not being able to handle her guilt, Amber took her own life by stabbing herself in the heart with a blade from her kitchen. The rumor stuck, and most people who remember that far back take it as a fact.
“The point, however, is that I believe the dream that Lily has been having from as far back as she can remember is actually a manifestation of Amber’s memory of that spring night when she discovered her murdered boyfriend in the field at the school.”
I looked down at my lap. My head was full of information I couldn’t quite take in. It was overwhelming and disconcerting. I felt like I’d just been told that my entire life was a lie.
Mom seemed to sense how it was affecting me, and she pulled my hand up to her heart protectively. “But how, Dr. White? How is that possible? I mean…reincarnation? Really?”
He nodded like he understood her skepticism. “I know it’s a lot to process, Dr. Bennett, but you witnessed your daughter’s hypnosis. All the details that she as Amber gave us, the things that Lily couldn’t possibly know or have access to learn. She didn’t get a single thing wrong. Not Amber’s address, not the names of her best friends, not the details of our final meeting. And I should mention that only the conscious mind is capable of producing a lie. The subconscious is the most honest part of ourselves—it’s where all the truth is hidden. It would be impossible for Lily to have created a ruse under hypnosis, and it’s not possible, in my opinion, that she faked that, either. She presented all of the telltale signs of being in a hypnotic state.”
Mom shifted in her chair, I stared at my lap and concentrated on taking deep breaths. “But how can this reincarnation stuff be real?” she said softly, as if she needed actual, scientific proof.
Dr. White tore off a piece of paper from his pad and began to write on it.
“Reincarnation isn’t my area of expertise,” he said. “But I do have a colleague at UVA who’s spent twenty-five years devoted to proving its existence. Dr. Van Dean is part of a collection of doctors devoted to the study of reincarnation at UVA’s Division of Perceptual Studies. I’ve read a few of his published papers, and both their methods and findings are fascinating.
“From what I’ve read, the department and Dr. Van Dean devote their research exclusively to young children, and normally Lily would be about ten years too old for him to consider seeing. However, I’m hoping that if I send him the copy of her session under hypnosis—with your permission, of course—he’ll agree to evaluate her and talk to the both of you.”
Dr. White handed Mom the folded piece of paper and she took it. “He’ll be able to help us?” she asked.
Dr. White leaned against his desk and folded his arms. “He will.”
“Okay, but what do we do in the meantime?” Mom asked next.
“Go home and try not to let this upset you. I know it’s a shock, but Lily isn’t alone in her experience. Far from it, according to Dr. Van Dean. If the nightmares persist and she’s unable to sleep through the night, call me and I’ll write her a prescription for a sleep aid. I’m hopeful that, now that Lily knows the dream’s source, it will interrupt her sleep less.”
“That’s it?” I said. “Just go home and hope that this other doctor will see me?”
Dr. White reached out to put a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, Lily. But try to remember that all the terrible events that happened to Amber happened to her. In another life. At another time. In this life, you’re safe and protected and alive and well.”
I stared at him in disbelief. I felt anything but safe. I felt totally freaked-out.
Mom got up and, as she was still clinging to my hand, I got up with her. “Thank you, Dr. White,” she said.
I knew I should’ve thanked him, too, but I just didn’t have it in me.
I HOPED THAT I HAD enough courage in me to face Spence and tell him the news. I hoped even more that he’d find a way to be happy for me, because I was ecstatic. Also nervous and anxious, but most of that was due to the fact that I didn’t know how Spence was going to react.
I’d gotten the letter three days before, but it’d taken me this long to get up the nerve to talk to Spence, and as my birthday was a week and a half away, I figured maybe I should tell him the news before he did anything big and romantic for me.
Not that I thought he’d break up with me. At least I hoped he wouldn’t. That thought gave me pause as I neared the gym where I knew he and Jamie and a few of the other football players would be racing back and forth doing their sprints to keep in shape for track season in the spring.
The track was currently covered in snow, and track season didn’t even start until April, but Spence and his buddies never took time off from their training. Most of them fully intended to play college ball, but only Spence was being actively recruited by scouts. I slid quietly into the gym and made my way over to the bleachers while watching a line of boys race each other across the basketball court to touch the wall, then back again.
“Did you tell him, yet?” I heard from behind me as I took my seat. Turning, I saw Sara making her way down from the top of the bleachers to me.
“No,” I said. “I’m afraid he’ll get mad.”
She sat down next to me and pushed at her curls, which were extra full today. Taking a scrunchie off her wrist, she bound up a section of her hair, causing her bangle bracelets to clink together pleasantly.
“You look cute,” I told her, realizing she’d made an extra effort.
She smiled and nudged me with her shoulder. “Thanks, but let’s not get off track.” Pointing to Spence she said, “What’s he gonna do? Tell you not to go?”
I didn’t answer her, because I didn’t know what Spence would say. The truth was, I didn’t know if I truly had the courage to leave him. I couldn’t imagine us being apart, but I also couldn’t imagine giving up such an amazing opportunity.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Amber, he’s gotta support you,” Sara said, leaning in to hug me sideways. “I mean, this is an awesome thing, right?”
“It is.”
“Well, then, there you go,” she said easily. “And if he says something stupid, signal me and I’ll come over and kick his ass!”
That made me laugh. “You will, huh?”
“Yep,” she said confidently. “Just give me a week or two to get an army together.”
I laughed again. “You’re a good friend,” I told her.
“Aww,” she said, giving me an extra squeeze. “Takes one to know one.”
I patted her arm, and we watched in silence as Jamie and Spence lined up at the start to race each other. They streaked down the wood floor, their arms and legs pumping so fast they looked blurred.
“Whoa,” Sara whispered as the pair halted at the padded wall, touched it, then whirled around to run back the other way. As they neared the finish they both strained with effort, leaning forward, neither yielding to the other. They crossed the finish line neck and neck, and I swore Spence edged Jamie out by a toe, but the other guys declared a tie.
The two boys bent double to catch their breath, then Spence reached out a hand and Jamie slapped it good-naturedly. At that moment Spence seemed to notice us and he stood up tall again to walk limply over.
“Hey!” he said, taking a seat and wiping his sweaty brow with his arm.
“Hi, sweetie,” I said, surreptitiously motioning to Sara to let us have a moment alone together.
She nodded and leaned in to whisper, “Remember, if he says anything stupid, my army and I will smack some sense into him.” I giggled and pushed at her. She laughed, too, and added loudly, “Gee, maybe I’ll go waaaay over
there and listen to some music.” Then she put on her Walkman and strolled casually up to the top of the bleachers.
“Did I miss something?” Spence asked.
My palms were sweaty with nerves. “No. I wanted to talk to you in private. I need to tell you something.”
Spence cocked a curious eyebrow. “What’s up, Bambi?”
Spence’s new favorite nickname for me was Ambi-Bambi. I liked it, but not in public. “I got an acceptance letter this week.”
“You did?” he said. “Wow, that was fast.”
“Yeah. I was surprised, too.”
“Actually, I’m not,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders for a sideways hug. “With your grades and SAT scores there’s no way UVA would pass you up.”
I bit my lip. This was the hard part. “Actually,” I said. “The acceptance letter was from UCLA.”
Spence pulled his head back in surprise. “UCLA? You mean, California’s UCLA?”
“Yeah. Their school is one of the best for psychiatric studies.”
Spence’s eyes pinched at the corners. “I didn’t know you’d applied there.”
“It was a last-minute thing,” I told him. “I sent it in the same time I applied to UVA. I just got the letter. I’m in.”
Spence studied me for a minute and then he suddenly broke into a grin. “Congratulations!” he said, and pulled me up to my feet for a real hug.
I was so relieved I started crying.
“Hey.” He leaned back to look at me and stroked a tear from my cheek. “Bambi, what’s the matter?”
“I don’t want to leave you,” I confessed. “Spence, I really want to go, but I don’t know how I can go to a school on the other side of the country from you.”
“Are they still taking applications?” he asked as we both sat down again.
I gazed hopefully at him. “Yes, until the end of this month. You’d have to hurry.”
“Can I get in?” he asked next, and I knew he was worried that his aptitude test scores wouldn’t be high enough.
“You’d probably have to retake your SATs,” I said honestly. “But, I was going to try to talk you into applying anyway, so I’ve already looked into it. There’s an SAT exam at the end of the month, and, according to the UCLA admission guidelines, as long as you’ve taken the test before sending in your application, they’ll wait on the test results before they make their final decision. Your grades are good enough, though, Spence. As long as your SATs come up you could totally get in.”
Forever, Again Page 10
